Saturday, 5 December 2009

I was just going through some drafts that never got published, and was tempted to post one that has been sitting there for about 5 months. It read much like how I'm feeling today, but it made some past references that are no longer current. So, instead of editing it, I figured I'll just start one fresh. The joys of living with somebody who is completely unpredictable are taxing at best. I am tired, stressed, easily aggravated, and dealing with a new round of my own depression just to square things off. It began yesterday evening. I was sitting on a kitchen counter, conversing with Stefanie, who was sitting on the counter across from me. The "guest" in the living room was leaving us alone as we talked, which was a nice change. Then Brent came home. He walked into the kitchen with the remains of some Wendy's, and sat down at the table. Stef and I tried involving him in some general banter. Then he asked me about rent, telling me that I was 4 days late (completely unaware that I had just gotten paid yesterday). I gave him the money I had on me, a couple hundred dollars. Then he asked for the rest of it, while turning towards anger. I told him that I'd have the rest when I am caught up with my bills this month. Then he stood up, told me not to "walk all over his generosity, because that pisses me off!", and walked out of the room. Awesome. The odd bit, which popped into my head a short while later, was that a few weeks ago he and I had gone out to get some food, and he was wondering how the "rest" of the people manage to get by everyday, with so much debt, and no way of making much more money than most already do. I told him just how hard it is to do, running down my financial history with him, and laying out how impossible it is to budget when there is no money left to budget when you've used everything you just earned to pay only three quarters of the bills. He listened, and contemplated. When I then told him how I had to take my car in to get checked out, guessing it was the brakes causing the issue I was (am) having, he told me he'd front me the money to get my brakes fixed. It turned out to be my tires, not my brakes, and that's not better. I've been shopping around for tires, but I just can't afford them, and every time I bring it up to him, he won't respond in any way. Getting new tires is vital right about now, considering how far I live from work, and how I don't live on flat terrain, or how they could blow out at any moment even under good driving conditions. Unfortunately my car uses odd sized tires, which of course cost more than the next size down. Mix that annoyance with the way my pay periods have been falling of late, and the fact that my middle of the month bills should have been paid with yesterday's paycheck, but since Brent demanded rent, I handed him what would have been my car and cell phone payments earlier today. This did not help with my mood. So to pass my time, I finally took care of my file cabinet (okay it's only a small wooden two drawer file cabinet). Bad decision on my part. I organized the last 7 years of bank statements for starters, and it retold the story of how I ended up where I am right now. The thousands and thousands of dollars that were lost due to the number games banks play with those of us living with just enough money to keep the power on, and not much of anything else. After filing away everything else, I went upstairs to hang out with Brent and Stef. I had only been in their room a few minutes when a pizza they had ordered arrived. I sat there for a while, watching the movie they had going, never being offered a piece of the pizza. Normally that wouldn't have bothered me much, but as I watched them eating what could have been my car payment it did. I would much prefer the money I give him to go towards things like house maintenance, the cable bill, the electric bill, or groceries. Instead it funds his shopping sprees, for things like movies and books on CD (some of which cost $300 per set!) , or video games. Never ever on food, or a replacement stove, or a snow shovel, or anything that just might come in handy around this house. It's sad really, and I hate myself a little more every time I hand him the "rent" money. That mixed with the fact that he just about makes more per week than I make in a whole month. Alright, I'm done bitching, okay not really, but I don't feel like rambling on anymore right now.